


Taking the Lead

by EnRaa



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Sitting, Grinding, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Slash, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2532620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnRaa/pseuds/EnRaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quickstrike gives Tarantulas a taste of his own medicine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking the Lead

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little fic written over the past few days before work :) Hope you enjoy.

“Quickstrike! What in the Pit do you think you’re doing?!” Tarantulas hissed, glowering up at his assistant. The little hybrid had managed to pin Tarantulas down in their berth, and the scientist was struggling to gain the upper hand once more as the little Fuzor chuckled at him. Tugging at the servo pinning his hands above his helm, the tarantula struggled fruitlessly as he waited for Quickstrike’s answer.

“Just takin’ some precautionary measures, Bossbot…” The smaller mech answered simply, shifting his hips a bit over the spider’s pelvic panel as a little tease. “Ah know ya’ll would never go fer this otherwise.”

“This is _not_ how we do things, Quickstrike.” The scientist protested, his beast mode legs already drumming against the berth in anticipation of the interface he’d initiated. Well, before his subordinate decided to get cheeky, anyway. He really needed to stop being so easy on him; It was breeding unwanted habits.

“It ain’t how we _usually_ do things.” Quickstrike agreed, grinding his hips down into Tarantulas’. “But Ah think it’s about time fer somethin’ new… Besides, Ah think yer about due fer a taste of yer own medicine.”

“My own medicine? What are you talking about?” Tarantulas growled disbelievingly.

“Yer always actin’ all dominant in the berth, Big T, tellin’ me what a little pleasure bot Ah am, how desperate Ah must be fer yer spike…” The Fuzor’s interface panel snapped back, and wet heat pressed against Tarantulas’ own panel as Quickstrike ground his valve down against his lover’s array. “Ah think s’bout time ya felt that from the receiving end.”

Tarantulas stiffened. “Don’t even think about it, Fuzor.”

Quickstrike leaned down to gently nuzzle the larger mech’s neck cabling. “Don’t worry, Ah’m not gonna spike ya or nothin’.” He grazed the fangs of his cobra tail along the spider’s side, making the scientist squirm and shiver. “Ah’ve got much better things planned…”

His hips were pressing up into Quickstrike’s, and it was a fight to keep his panel closed against that inviting heat. Tarantulas couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through his frame as the Fuzor played with him, or the involuntary chitter his mandibles made as the Fuzor purred approvingly into his audial.

“Good… See? Yer gettin’ into it.” He murmured, and Tarantulas really couldn’t keep his panel closed any longer. Not with how the Fuzor was rubbing himself so deliciously against his superior.

With a click far too loud for his liking, the spider’s spike pressurized, rubbing against the wet folds of his lover’s valve. “Nngh, get on with it, Fuzor!” Tarantulas groaned, letting his helm fall back against the berth in frustration. This really had gone on long enough.

And then that heat was gone. And so was the welcoming weight of Quickstrike’s frame over his.

Tarantulas looked up to see the Fuzor looking down at him with a contemplative expression. His helm was cocked to the side in an almost cute manner as he examined the spider.

“Y’know that slag gets kinda old… ‘Get on with it, Fuzor!’, ‘Harder, Fuzor!’, ‘More, Fuzor!’…” The little mech imitated. “But let’s see how you like it, _Spider_.”

It was a strange sort of reaction; A chitter and a few drums sounded at the same time from the his frame, and Tarantulas tried not to let his mortification show as he glared up at the Fuzor.

Quickstrike brightened right up at the reaction though. “Ah think you like that, huh Bossbot? Ya like being forced off yer pedestal…?” He teased. “Want me to treat ya like the li’l pleasure bot ya’ll are…?”

Transfluid was leaking from the spider’s spike more than the Fuzor had ever seen before, and his hips were gently pumping up at nothing, seeking any sort of friction. His visor was dimmed, and the hybrid could tell even if Tarantulas didn’t want to admit it just yet, he was going wild over this.

“But Ah mean if yer really not in the mood, Ah can always leave ya here til yer a little more…cooperative…” Quickstrike shrugged, making to get off of his lover.

“Don’t…!” Tarantulas yelped before he could stop himself. When he realized what he’d done, he hung his head in defeat. “Don’t leave. I…want it.” He admitted.

The smaller mech purred. “Good mech…” He praised, nuzzling the mech’s helm. The spider arched into him, optic band dim with arousal and helm bowed in submission.

“Now,” Quickstrike shuffled a little farther up the mech’s frame, letting go of the spider’s wrists. His hands automatically grasped the Fuzor’s hips, the smaller mech’s panel just a few inches from Tarantulas’ face. “Ah think ya need to prove yerself… Get t’work, Spider.”Quickstrike ordered, shifting his hips forward a little.

The scientist eagerly pulled his hips down so his valve was just over Tarantulas’ mouth, and his mandibles went to work teasing and skittering over the swollen folds. Quickstrike arched into the stimulation, winding the cobra head around the back of Tarantulas’ helm and pulling him closer. Tarantulas moaned and pressed as close as he could get to the Fuzor valve, eagerly pressing his mandibles to the rim and collecting the lubricant that dribbled out.

“Uhn… Good mech…” The Fuzor purred, gently rocking his hips into the stimulation. “Such a good mech fer me…”

Little moans and mewls were emitting from the spider’s vocalizer as he drank down the fluid that spilled from the Fuzor’s valve. He was running so hot from the treatment, and his spike twitching and bobbing as the scientist pumped his hips into the air subconsciously, trying to find any relief.

 Quickstrike was done in when the scientist captured his anterior node between two mandibles and began lightly pinching the little bud. He gave a sharp gasp and a few hard thrusts into the tarantula’s mouth and cried out, throwing his helm back and arching his pelvis into the spider as his valve flooded with lubricant.

Tarantulas eagerly drank it all down with a satisfied hum, and the little Fuzor was panting and mewling his completion atop his lover. “Ughn…” He groaned with satisfaction. “So good… Good spider.” He teased.

The hybrid pulled away from Tarantulas and shuffled down so he was straddling the scientist’s hips. He eased the leaking spike between his legs, sliding it through the folds of his valve. Tarantulas moaned and tried to buck into the stimulation, but Quickstrike sat on his hips to pin them, giving his superior a most devious look.

“Now, now Bossbot, can’t have ya’ll rushin’ things along…” He murmured as he began rocking against the hard spike, sliding it along his array at a torturously slow pace. He gave a low moan as the ridged length pressed against his anterior node just right. “It ruins the fun…”

The spider writhed, clutching the edge of the berth tightly and attempting desperately not to just snap and take the Fuzor then and there. Not when he was enjoying his lover’s little dominant streak this much.

Quickstrike watched the scientist under him as he rocked against his spike, chuckling at the sheer desperation the spider was exhibiting. He’d never show this side on his own, and the Fuzor was proud to be able to reduce his lover to such a state of wanton need.

Having mercy, Quickstrike lifted off the spike slowly, realigning himself and thrusting down in the spider’s lap, taking his spike to the hilt in one movement. Tarantulas moaned as tight, warm heat finally enveloped his spike and he immediately brought his hands to the hybrid’s hips to begin moving in him.

A set of cobra fangs hovering over his neck cabling made him pause however, and he looked up to see Quickstrike leering down at him. “Nuh-Uh, Spider-bot.” He tsk’d, grinding down on the spike filling him. “Ah’m controllin’ this ride.”

The Fuzor began a slow and torturous pace that was driving the spider crazy. Tarantulas whined, petting over the hybrid’s abdomen and back in a desperate attempt at getting the smaller mech riled up enough to start moving quicker himself, but those fangs dragging along his neck once more stopped him with a frustrated huff.

“Tarantulas, Ah’m not gonna tell ya again.” Quickstrike warned. “When Ah say ya’ll can touch me, ya can.” He explained simply as he stopped moving all together.

Tarantulas was about ready to just throw the act all together and frag the mech through the berth. This was getting ridiculous! He was so revved up it hurt, and he could feel his systems getting close to overheating…

The Fuzor often got that hot when Tarantulas fragged him, and the spider wondered briefly if this wasn’t how worked up Quickstrike always got over him… A horrible state to be in if that were the case, he decided. Then Quickstrike began moving again, and Tarantulas stopped thinking and just let the mech use him, bouncing in his lap and mewling at the feel of the ridges and bumps along the spike stimulating his inner sensors.

He was moving quicker now, and Tarantulas could tell with how Quickstrike’s thighs shook that he was getting close. “Permission…to touch you now?” Tarantulas tried, and the Fuzor nodded eagerly, reaching down and pressing one of Tarantulas’ hands to his array, grinding his anterior node against the spider’s hand.

Quickstrike threw his head back and moaned, thrusting harder and grinding the tip of Tarantulas’ spike against his ceiling node, making them both shudder in pleasure. The smaller mech didn’t seem to be too lost in pleasure though, and he stilled all together, making Tarantulas growl. “What is it now?” He hissed.

“Beg me fer it, Spider.” Quickstrike demanded, grinding down slowly on the spike, rubbing it continuously against his ceiling node, teasing them both. “Beg me t’make ya overload…”

Tarantulas scoffed, wincing as his spike throbbed in the tight valve surrounding it. “Never.” He vowed.

“Never?” Quickstrike asked, clearly not believing the larger mech at all. He contracted his valve around the thick length inside, clenching it tightly and making Tarantulas hiss in pleasure.

“No.” The spider spat, pinching the hybrid’s swollen anterior node in retaliation. Quickstrike gasped and bucked hard, and Tarantulas took that as an opportunity to began thrusting up to meet Quickstrike’s thrusts, hammering into the swollen valve.

Quickstrike couldn’t help but get lost in the sensation as Tarantulas took him, feeling his overload approaching fast. He began contracting his valve rhythmically in time to the spider’s thrusts, bringing them both to the peak at the same time.

Tarantulas moaned long and loud as he finally reached overload, pumping his transfluid into the quivering Fuzor above him with a satisfied purr. Quickstrike could only shudder and whimper as he reached his end, falling limp over his lover.

When they both recovered enough to move, Tarantulas looked down at his little lover still sprawled over him. “Of all the things you can make me do, I won’t ever beg you.” He assured the mech.

Quickstrike chuckled softly. “We’ll see Bossbot. But ya gotta admit, ya’ll got pretty into it.”

The spider gave a huff. “I suppose it was interesting to reverse our respective roles… It’s certainly not something I want to do again anytime soon, however.”

“Mmm, no. Just fer a change.” Quickstrike said as he nuzzled into his lover’s neck cabling and got ready for recharge, clearly spent from their activities. “Love ya, Bossbot.”

“Sleep well, my little Fuzor.” Tarantulas patted the little mech’s helm and settled in for recharge as well.

 

end


End file.
